Monster
by Gryph
Summary: Daryl processes events up through S4E05, Internment. SPOILERS through S4E05, Internment.


**Monster**

_If I were a monster, would you wince when you looked at me?  
If I were a freak would you stare?  
If I were a leper would you say unclean?  
If I was lost, would you help me get free?_

Rick thought long and hard on the drive back to the prison about what he was going to tell everyone about Carol. He could take the easy way out, tell everyone that she'd been killed. No one would question it, expect him to produce a body. It worked for Shane; no one even questioned what had happened to Otis, at least not at first.

But that sort of deception lead down the dark path that he'd been trying to avoid since his confrontation with the Governor. He'd looked into the face of that monster and seen a sliver of his own reflection glimmering back at him.

Shane. Lori. Michonne. Merle. Andrea. Each bad decision had pushed him closer to that thin line, knowing even as he danced on the razor's edge that crossing it was something he might not be able to come back from.

It was the line Carol had crossed. For all her good intentions, she'd taken away something that wasn't hers to take. Karen and David _might_ have survived. Their deaths had been pointless; the sickness was still spreading through the prison population. What she'd done... He couldn't have that around Carl and Judith. Not because he thought that Carol would hurt either child, but because he didn't want her to be someone that Carl might look up to, who might teach and influence his son in ways that sent a shudder down his spine.

He felt like he had just pulled Carl back from that same precipice that he had looked over; he didn't want him following Carol back to that brink. It was all too easy in this inhumane world to lose touch with simple humanity.

No, he needed to be honest about what he did, come clean with the others. And pray that they believed he made the right call.

That they didn't think _he_ was the monster for sending her away.

* * *

Daryl watched the blacktop quickly eaten up beneath the wheels of the chopper. He wasn't exactly sure how he was going to find Carol, but he was betting that she hadn't gone far from the town where she and Rick had parted ways—not yet. They both knew there was still business between them. Air that had to be cleared.

He wasn't as angry at Rick as he thought he would be, or as much as Rick obviously thought he would be, either. In fact, what he was mad at was not that Rick had banished Carol from returning to the prison, but that he'd been too cowardly to tell him right off. It wasn't until well after midday, several hours after Daryl's group had returned from the vet college and he'd asked Herschel about Carol, before he was able to track down Rick.

After he'd squashed his first instinct to lash out at Rick, he'd listened to the man's side of the story. Well, first he _had_ gotten all up in his face about the whole fucked up situation, but for Daryl, that was barely a blip compared to how he would have reacted a year ago. But it kept coming down to Rick sending away the people that Daryl cared about. Rick had separated him from Merle—twice—and now Carol. Not hat he didn't agree that Carol had done wrong; he'd seen the burnt bodies himself, smelled that god-awful stench of charred flesh, known that those heat-twisted bodies had still been living people with a chance of surviving. But just when he'd finally started to let himself believe that maybe he could care about someone without constantly guarding against being hurt, she was gone.

Rick had given Merle a second chance, and his brother had in his final act redeemed himself from monster to human being. The great irony being that his atonement had cost his life and turned him into the monster lurking inside them all now. But by Rick's standards, Carol had not earned the same chance. She was unrepentant, Rick had said. No remorse. No contrition.

Daryl needed to see for himself. Not that he thought Rick was lying or anything, but he needed to hear the words from her own mouth. She owed him that.

He found her waiting by the side of the road on the way into town. She got out of the car as he approached and stood in the middle of the road, her hands planted on her hips in a stance that said she was ready for a fight. But the expression on her face, the slight drooping of her mouth and eyes, said she hoped there wouldn't be one.

When he pulled up next to her, he cut the engine and kicked down the stand, but remained astride the bike. He tilted his head to look at her face.

She stared back at him silently for a moment, then raised her chin defiantly. "Knew you'd come," she said with the ghost of a smirk. "Sometimes you're like an old hounddog with a bone."

"I ain't here to bring you back," he said flatly. He didn't want any false expectations.

"I know." She broke from his gaze, her eyes darting away to search the road behind him, ever vigilant for walkers. He could help but see the moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes. "And I'm not going to explain myself again. Did that once already."

"Didn't expect you to." He swung his leg over the bike and headed for the back of the car. "Just want to make sure you have enough supplies to get by." It wasn't what he wanted to say, but his chest was too tight, his heart lurching achingly as it tried to keep on beating. He opened the hatch and scanned the trunk's contents.

She followed him and leaned against the fender, hugging her arms across her chest. "I'll be fine. Always managed to land on my feet one way or another. After living with Ed—," she let the thought trail off. Daryl's eyes narrowed at the mention of her abusive husband, now long dead. He thought he heard just a hint of catch in her voice. She looked away. "I just hate the idea of leaving those two little girls."

"They'll be fine," he assured her. "We got the medicine now; Herschel says it should work." He closed the hatch. "Besides, kids are tough. People will take care of them."

He crossed back to his bike, careful not to brush against Carol as he passed. The time for that was over. He opened one of the saddle bags and pulled out a string of three rabbits. "Here, take these. If you come across another group, they might be more wiling to take you in if you can offer them some meat. Or eat it yourself if you don't."

She hesitated for a moment, then shook her head and with a resigned look, reached out to take them. Her fingers brushed his hand as she took the rabbits. He almost pulled back, not wanting to acknowledge the jolt that thrummed through him at the contact. Instead, he grabbed her wrist gently, and they locked eyes.

_I'm sorry,_ her look said. _I said I'd never leave you alone. I feel like I keep losing myself. I want to believe that someday I'll see the light again._

Daryl swallowed hard. _I'm sorry, too. You never thought I was a monster. And you'll never be one in my eyes._

"Just be careful out there, okay?" he said gruffly. "Maybe..." He stopped. What could he say? What could he ask of her? To meet him here again? She needed to move on if she was going to survive, find a new group to join. Neither of them would ever keep any rendezvous that they planned. But he couldn't bring himself to say goodbye. "Maybe you'll find yourself again out there."

A quick smile chased the tears out of her eyes. "Maybe I will."


End file.
